The Thirty Day Wager
by SoftPurple Sherlockian
Summary: John bets Sherlock he can't pay a compliment to somebody for 30 straight days.


John ducked just in time to avoid the Cluedo game that was soaring through the air over his head before crashing against the wall, a trail of pieces and cards now scattered all over the sitting room. "Bloody hell, Sherlock, that almost took my head off!" an exasperated John shouted at his pouting flatmate. "I don't know why I continue to let you talk me into that game! What's that expression about being insane? '_Doing the same thing and expecting different results_?'"

"That's a quote from Einstein, honestly John, _everybody_ knows that!"

"No, Sherlock, everyone _doesn't_ know that! I didn't know that!"

"Well that's because you're an idiot." The detective responded before returning to his sulk. The room was too quiet and Sherlock turned to see John, looking utterly defeated as he set to picking up the game pieces that were strewn all over the flat. "Oh don't look so offended, John. You know what I mean."

"Yeah" was the only answer Sherlock got as his flatmate focused on the task at hand.

The consulting detective rarely felt guilt, it was an emotion as pointless as the rest of them, but in that moment, watching his friend looking crushed, Sherlock felt a tug on his heart strings. "John," he started before he was interrupted by the pointed stare he was now receiving from the doctor.

"Don't, Sherlock. Just… don't. Molly was right; you always say the most horrible things. You know, I think you would probably drop dead if you actually had to pay somebody a compliment for once instead of being so… Sherlock-y!"

"Don't be ridiculous, John, the expression of any positive sentiment directed at another individual is hardly enough to kill me! I'm disappointed in you; you're a doctor after all."

"I didn't mean literally, you git! I was just saying that we both know you're people skills could use some work."

"I know how to behave. Do you honestly believe I don't know how to conduct myself around strangers? Mummy wouldn't hear of it! I can be quite posh and proper when the situation calls for it."

John had finished collecting the scattered pieces and was now returning the board game to the shelf before he turned around and stared at the man lying across the sofa. "I'm not talking about putting on some manipulative façade to get information out of somebody, Sherlock. I mean showing genuine appreciation to the people who put up with your antics on a daily basis and still manage not to kill you."

"That's absurd! Of course I can!"

"Prove it."

"Pardon?" The detective asked as he studied John's face, recognizing the second his flatmate had formulated whatever sentence that was about to leave his mouth.

"Thirty days. You have to give somebody a compliment every day for a solid month. If you can do that, I'll eat my words."

Sherlock continued looking over the features of the doctor's face, looking for any signs of deception. Not that he expected to find any; John was the most honest bloke he knew. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions were written on his face like words on the pages of a book. "Fine," he finally said, maintaining eye contact with the man standing in front of him.

"Come again?"

"I said fine, I'll take that wager, thirty days and not a single hour more. Oh, and Anderson doesn't count." At that, John let out a hearty laugh which earned him one of the detective's rare smiles.

"Oh God no, not Anderson, I wouldn't even dream of doing that to you" he told Sherlock, who was still lying there with a lopsided grin.

"Very well, it's decided."

**Day One**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street

Sherlock's heart wasn't really in this experiment. In all honesty, it seemed pointless, but he was never one to back down from a challenge and found himself agreeing to John's terms the evening before without really even thinking about it.

John was in the kitchen making tea for the pair of them when Sherlock left his bedroom the next morning. The detective reached across the counter to grab his mug and made his way to the sitting room before taking a long swallow, ignoring the fact that the liquid was still scalding hot.

"This is good, John," he shouted across the flat before leaning his head back, unaware of the doctor standing by the sink with his mouth hanging open.

**Day Two**

**Location: **Wandsworth Mortuary

"Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the back of the head caused by a single blow."__Sherlock just looked at Molly, amazed that she still felt the need to explain such elementary things.

"Obviously" Out of the corner of his eye he saw John shifting his weight around and the detective mentally chastised himself for being so crass in John's presence. Despite his displeasure at this ridiculous month long endeavor, he was determined to prove John wrong. He inhaled slowly before continuing "I apologise, Molly. What else do we know?"

The M.E. turned ten shades of pink before going into a long, drawn out explanation stating everything Sherlock already knew. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out at the young woman, and it seemed like forever before she stopped speaking and angled herself to face the detective.

"Very good. I think that's everything I need." Sherlock stated before turning on his heel and walking out of the morgue. John followed behind him with a smile on his face.

**Day Three**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street

"John, you should wear the blue jumper, it's more flattering."

John didn't even pretend to argue with his flatmate, the detective's fashion sense was far superior to his own, and he walked upstairs to change.

"Better?" he asked Sherlock as he made his way back down to their shared sitting room.

"Much."

"You didn't even look up."

"Really John, do you honestly think I don't know how that one looks?"

John blushed before heading out into the crisp night air. The ebony haired man missed nothing, including the flush that had crept into John's cheeks before he exited the flat for the evening. Sherlock contemplated the meaning behind the scarlett colouring and decided that he needed more data. John had seemed pleased yesterday when Sherlock had praised Molly's work, happy even. Yet when he became the target of any positive praise, he quickly became flustered and didn't seem to know how to respond. At the prospect of a new mystery, Sherlock's overall attitude towards the thirty day experiment had shifted. He was very interested in conducting more thorough research.

**Day Four**

**Location: **Scotland Yard

**Compliment:** "Those are lovely earrings Anderson bought you, Sally. Am I to assume his wife remains oblivious to the affair?"

**Subject's reaction**: "Sherlock, I'm not sure that counts!" Laughing as he spoke, deduced an amused/positive attitude.

**Heart rate:** Normal

**Pupils:** Normal, responsive to light

**Respiratory rate:** Normal, thirteen breaths per minute

**Day Five**

**Location:** 221 B Baker Street

**Compliment:** "These digestives are wonderful, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you for bringing them up."

**Subject's reaction: **Smiling behind his newspaper and gave a very obvious wink in Mrs. Hudson's direction before returning to whatever article was currently holding his attention.

**Heart rate: **Normal

**Pupils: **Slightly dilated due to poor lighting, responsive to light.

**Respiratory rate: **Normal, twelve breaths per minute

**Day Six**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street

**Compliment:** "John, that blog you posted about our latest case, the one with the runaway groom? It was very well written."

**Subject's reaction:** Cheeks slightly flush before embarrassingly muttering "Thanks"

**Heart rate: **Slightly elevated

**Pupils: **Dilated just a fraction

**Respiratory rate: **Increased after initial shortness of breath, nineteen breaths per minute

**Day Seven**

**Location: **Scotland Yard

**Compliment:** "Honestly Lestrade, how many idiots do you have working for you? You're the only one who did a halfway decent job with this case file!"

**Subject's reaction: **Shifting weight around from foot to foot while smugly smiling at Lestrade who is gaping back at him.

**Heart rate: **Normal

**Pupils: **Normal

**Respiratory rate: **Normal, fourteen breaths per minute

*

*  
The days passed in a rhythm of boredom and the occasional case. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Sherlock that the only time john became uncomfortable with their little wager was when he was on the receiving end of the detective's compliments/ With this new found knowledge, Sherlock found himself contemplating just how much he could make the doctor squirm. The notion never really held much interest to him before, whatever indication he had ever picked up on regarding John's affections towards him he seemed to have filed away and simply forgot about them. However, in light of this newly rediscovered information concerning his flatmate, Sherlock had to admit the idea held more than a little appeal, and the detective was pleased with himself for implementing a new variable into the John Watson equation: tactile contact

**Day Fifteen**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street kitchen

**Compliment:** "What is this dish, John? It's delicious, I think I'll have some more."

**Contact: **Reach across subject for another helping of pasta, brushing along subject's forearm while stretching across the table.

**Subject's reaction: **Slight recoil, as if being struck

**Heart rate: **Audible, increased

**Pupils: **Dilated, though difficult to deduce due to the closing of eyelids

**Respiratory rate: **Difficult to determine exact rate, subject took a sharp intake and held his breath until contact had subsided.

**Day Sixteen**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street bathroom

**Compliment:** "Excuse me, John. I have to get this experiment into the tub. Is that how you're wearing your hair today? I like it, it suits you."

**Contact: **Shoulder (left) brushes horizontally across subject's back as I walked over to the tub.

**Subject's reaction: **Hands grip sink to steady himself. Knuckles are white.

**Heart rate: **Elevated, but not dangerously so

**Pupils: **N/A – eyelids remain shut.

**Respiratory rate: **Shallow, eight breaths per minute

*

*  
The next several days passed without the results varying too much. Sherlock would initiate some sort of seemingly innocent contact, and John would freeze while desperately trying to appear unaffected. The detective continued pouring out compliments to his regular acquaintances as well, if for no other purpose than to please John. The doctor did hate being one of Sherlock's experiments, but by distributing the positive verbal affections, John remained blissfully unaware that he was the sole beneficiary approximately eighty one percent of the time, and what had started out as science for Sherlock was growing into something that he actually looked forward to on a daily basis. He found that he enjoyed being the one to get that reaction from John, and reveled in the fact that he seemed to be the only one able to do so. It was a feeling he found himself wanting to repeat more frequently and was truly surprised by his own reaction on the afternoon of the twenty fifth day of the experiment.

**Day Twenty Five**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street sitting room

John had been sleeping in his chair, tuckered out after a stressful day at the clinic. Sherlock was staring at his unconscious flatmate, disappointed because he hadn't had a chance to try for any reaction from john due to his being out of the flat all day.

If he stayed propped up like that, his shoulder would be hurting him tomorrow, and Sherlock didn't want that. The taller man rose from his position on the sofa and walked over to where his friend was resting. In a spur of the moment decision, Sherlock leaned forward and placed his mouth directly over John's ear in an effort to wake him.

"John" he whispered

"John, you should go to your bed" his hot breath dancing over the doctor's ear caused the man in the chair to wiggle. Intrigued, Sherlock exhaled purposely slowly, allowing his breath to wash over John's neck and lobe. He was almost ready to suck in another lungful of air when he was stopped dead in his tracks by the moan coming from the doctor. Certain he had misheard, Sherlock tried again, experimentally breathing long, slow breaths mixed with quick short ones, over John. He was rewarded with a whimper as his eyes caught the slight twitch coming from the pelvis of his flatmate. The combination of the little noises John was making and the knowledge of the growing erection just a fraction of a meter away left Sherlock in the unusual predicament of being in the same state, as he felt all of his blood rush to his groin.

Sherlock retreated to his bedroom to avoid the awkwardness that would follow any conversation that would happen should he attempt to wake John while in their current condition. Still, not wanting John to stay in the chair all night, he made sure to slam the door loud enough behind him, ensuring that the doctor would wake up and retreat to his own room.

Sherlock leaned against his door until he was certain that John was tucked in bed, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He understood the concept of an erection; he had just never been subjected to one quite so spontaneously before and was trying to catalog his reaction to the new information.

**Day Twenty Six**

**Location:** Wandsworth Mortuary

**Compliment:** "Molly, these specimens are in wonderful condition. You did an immaculate job at extracting them. John, hand me that jar of eyeballs. No! Not the brown ones, the ones with the blue irises!"

**Contact:** initial fingers grazing as subject hands over incorrect specimen. I proceeded to walk behind him to retrieve correctly labeled eyes, making sure to brush groin against subject's bottom in the process.

**Subject's Reaction: **Hands grip the table in front of him, difficult to tell if this action is to steady himself from falling forwards, or to anchor himself from pushing back. Further research is needed.

**My Reaction:** Surprisingly pleasant, tried to find a way to maintain position slightly longer, but decided it was not feasible without drawing too much attention to myself. Will repeat experiment at a later date and try to duplicate results.

**Heart rate:** Elevated minimally at finger contact, sharply at groin contact.

**Pupils: **Subject facing other direction - N/A

**Respiratory Rate: **Increased, twenty five breaths per minute

**Day Twenty Seven**

**Location: **Angelo's Italian Restaurant

**Compliment:** "Angelo, your chef has outdone himself tonight. This is exquisite."

**Contact:** Knees pressed against subject's, remained there throughout the course of the meal

**Subject's Reaction:** Subject initially jumped at the physical contact, however did not shift position and held conversation while maintaining relatively normal body language.

**My Reaction:** Prolonged contact not entirely unpleasant, over the course of the evening I found myself oddly comforted by the warmth radiating from the subject.

**Heart rate:** Too far away to tell, however carotid artery jumped at initial contact and slowed to a no longer visible rate by the end of the meal.

**Pupils:** Dilated, difficult to tell if the state was due to contact or by poor lighting.

**Respiratory rate:** Surprisingly normal

**Day Twenty Eight**

**Location: **Scotland Yard lift

**Circumstances: **Large group of people loaded the lift, forcing myself and subject to the back.

**Compliment: **"You smell nice, John."

**Contact:** I allowed myself to back against the subject, bending my knees in a way that was not entirely noticeable to make up for the height difference, thus allowing my bottom to press firmly into the subject's groin

**Subject's reaction: **Subject tried to shift away from contact, however, upon each movement, the friction caused the subject's penis to give an involuntary spasm. Subject stilled and was silently begging that I had not noticed. I did.

**My reaction: **Was able to remain unaffected until subject's penis began growing erect against my bottom. After, I found myself with a slight erection and was thankful for the long overcoat I was wearing.

**Heart rate:** Accelerated

**Pupils:** N/A – Subject was behind me

**Respiratory rate:** Above normal, twenty three breaths per minute

**Day Twenty Nine**

**Location: **221 B Baker Street

**Circumstances:** John is leaving the kitchen with some biscuits, jam, and a cuppa and retreats to the sitting room while trying to persuade me to eat something. I stride across the flat to his chair to grab a bite just to shut him up

**Compliment:** "Do I look malnourished, John? You do a spectacular job of taking care of me. You shouldn't worry so much, it's just transport."

**Contact: **After my displeasure is made known, I proceed to grab a biscuit off of the plate resting on John's lap. I notice a drop of jam on the corner of John's lip and reach up to scoop it off with my finger. Upon inspecting the sticky substance, I bring my finger to my mouth and lick it clean.

**John's reaction: **John is watching me intently; his eyes follow my finger and never leave my mouth as I bring it past my lips.

**My reaction: **Upon watching the drastic effect my actions were having on John, I found a heat pooling in my stomach and felt my core temperature rising by several degrees. I murmur "that's good," before turning around and walking back across the flat.

**Heart rate:** Difficult to see artery from the angle I am standing above John.

**Pupils:** blown out, so dilated that only a small amount of the iris is present.

**Respiratory rate:** Twenty four breaths per minute

**Day Thirty**

**Location: **Cab ride to 221 B Baker Street

**Circumstances: **Pretending to fall asleep on John's shoulder during the ride. Made sure he entered the taxi first so my head wouldn't rest on his bad shoulder.

**Compliment: **"You were brilliant, John! You got nearly everything right."

**Contact: **Even out breathing pattern and pretend to let head nod to and fro until finally coming down on John's good shoulder.

**John's reaction:** Not surprisingly, there was no negative reaction. John leaned his cheek against my hair, and even positioned my hand to a more comfortable position when I threw my arm around his torso, proceeded to relax into the embrace while absent mindedly stroking my arm, also, dropped a small kiss on the top of my head after inhaling my hair.

**My reaction: **Results showed that I am open to a physical embrace, experiment in cab proved that the molding of our two bodies fit quite harmoniously.

**Heart rate:** Normal

**Pupils:** N/A

**Respiratory rate:** Normal, thirteen breaths per minute

**Primary experiment conclusion: **Possible to give compliments without proving fatal to my health.

**Secondary experiment conclusion: **Further data needed.

With the experiment concluded, Sherlock was wondering about the flat in a sort of daze. It was obvious there was some sort of attraction between himself and the doctor, and while he initially thought it to be purely physical, a series of reactions that couldn't be helped due to genetic wiring, last night's cab ride had thrown him the variable of sentiment. He had not stopped to consider the underlying _emotions _that fueled such behaviour, but riding back to the flat, as John kissed his head, there was nothing sexual about it. There was concern, and fondness, affection, and even love rolled into that simple action, and Sherlock found himself reciprocating the fondness that he was unaware he possessed until very recently.

That evening, John was in the kitchen preparing dinner for the two of them when Sherlock walked up behind him and put his hands on either side of his flatmate and grabbed the counter before whispering against his ear "that smells heavenly, John"

"Sh-Sherlock? Bet's over, you have proven your point."

"mmm, indeed it is, but who says I have to stop?" With that, he slowly placed a kiss along John's neck, right below his ear and was rewarded with a tiny shiver.

"Damn you. How long?"

"It became apparent around day twenty five of the wager."

"Hmpf. I'm surprised it took you that long."

"Oh no, John" he chuckled "I was able to figure you out after less than a week, it was my own reaction that took a bit longer out."

"Y-your reaction?" The doctor stammered, trying to ignore the weight from the man behind him as he ground his pelvis into John's bottom.

"Yes, my reaction. I had thought I was making it quite obvious. Then again, I've been told I'm not very good with the whole emotional aspect of this. Here, let me try this another way" he murmured softly against John's ear as his hands came up and spun John to look at him. When they were face to face, Sherlock lowered his head and captured the doctor's mouth in his own.


End file.
